Well folks, it’s officially that time. We’re within 20 days of the premiere of Vanderpump Rules. I can’t believe it’s finally here. Maybe I’m tearing up a little bit at my desk rn just thinking about it. SUE ME. Based on all the shit we’ve been expertly reporting since last season’s finale and the new trailer that just dropped, it’s safe to say this season is going to be lit af. One of the main points of drama will be Scheana’s relationship with Z-list actor Rob Valletta and whether or not he’s there for the right reasons. I’m sorry… Since when does Chris Harrison moonlight as a VPR producer? We also know, thanks to an array of thirst trap Instagrams, that Sheana and Rob’s relationship is already dunzo. Or is it? Because over the weekend she posted a ‘Gram with none other than Mr. Valletta at the Vanderpump Dogs gala with hearts in the fucking caption. Brb. Going to the hospital to get checked out for the whiplash I got from trying to keep up with this shit.
I obvi have so many questions, that I will direct right at Scheana, because obviously she’s reading this. Are you back together? Are you still trying to pull that “we’re still best friends” bullshit none of us believe? What does this mean? You can’t just post an extremely mature breakup post on Instagram that features you wearing a waist-length fur in the California desert with no panties on and then change your mind. You just can’t. But maybe it’s just a little publicity stunt, right? Like, one pic doesn’t prove anything. But wait for it…
BOOM. A little hidden gem in the comments section of Rob giving the most fuckboy excuse I’ve ever heard in my life. You get called out by a rando Instagram troll for not posting shit of your on-again off-again girlfriend, and the best you can do is, “[Scheana] does post more about her private life than I do”? I mean, you had time to post all those shirtless selfies, Rob. I know your scheme. But tbh, I don’t care either way because this is clearly complicated af we can count on Scheana’s overly Botox’d face to cry about it at the reunion. And I live for a Bravo Botox cry.
One thing’s for sure, and it’s that somebody needs to mail that last commenter a Xanax. Andrea, girl, DM me.
